


Selfish

by ColorZPrincezZ



Series: Another Mob Boss or Jasmine [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Gen, I Wrote This On My Phone, M/M, Mafia Boss Tony Stark, Possessive Behavior, but nothing to gory nor specific, descriptions of violence, mention of poison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorZPrincezZ/pseuds/ColorZPrincezZ
Summary: “Don’t touch what’s mine.” Said the clever boy.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Another Mob Boss or Jasmine [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692139
Kudos: 159





	Selfish

**Author's Note:**

> I keep making moodboards and expanding stories I thought were complete (??)

_ Selfish— _

He rose up still drunk on sleep. Peter wasn’t used to yet but enjoyed it anyway. Whether was dark and warm past midnight or the early cold mornings, he found peace in it. 

Shoeless feet brushed gingerly on the soft rug while the small click of oxfords were heard in the room. The door opened to the spacey bathroom and Peter was soon surrounded by floral essences of Lavender and Lillies. 

A smooth and caring touch was left in his hair and Peter couldn’t help but sigh lovingly, not in all his short time living this live he could get used to the alluring promises of forever. 

Mister Stark was still on his working clothes. The only clear difference of his appearance was the lack of a tie and the golden twins at his sleeves, in fact, the white of his sleeves were now slightly pink and splashed over, rolled up so Peter had a view of his bare forearms and the pulsing veins flooding with rage. 

He wanted to comfort while the other man had other plans. Striping Peter from his nightgown in sweet touches. First the silky pristine top, the spaghetti stripes rolled down his shoulders bringing tickles and making the boy chuckle loud enough to be heard in the room. Stark leaned over to smell the scent of apples from Peter’s hair and a tint of his own shampoo; Peter started to crave his smell the nights Tony spend too long out from the state. 

“Mister Stark—“ Peter tried again to gain his attention but the man shushed him sweety with a kiss on his forehead, a silent order to let him be. Both would find peace afterward. Peter nodded wordlessly and took a step forward. Stepping on Stark’s shoes, Peter went up to his fingertips by the time Stark sank his fingers on the hem of his frilly shorts and pushed them down. 

Peter hid his face in the man’s neck feeling shy. 

“You’re Perfecto, _Bambino_.” Stark praised him and reassured him. To him Peter was an angel. 

His underwear for the night were simple white panties that hugged his cheeks to roundness and was soft to his fingertips, he almost felt disappointed at the lack of sweet patterns, feeling accustomed to the tiny details the made the clothing purely Peter. 

“ _Grazie_.” Stark felt his heart soared in a sense of pride as Peter talked, the boy had taken a liking for learning Italian so he could understand Tony at random times when the words would escape him. 

The undergarments went down and promptly Peter was moved to the bathtub. 

The water was warm but he still felt the change in his skin giving him goosebumps, Tony had him siting at his chest so Peter couldn’t see his face. Mr. Stark’s hands went to his hair, getting it wet and ready enough for shampoo. Peter melted under his touch trusting him with his soul, the man would never hurt him. 

He lashes became sparkly with water as Stark cleaned him and only then Peter notice the different coloring he was sitting on. Long lost was the clear and bubbly seam of water, left only a not so strange but still not familiar pink hue. Mister Stark had his hands dirty. 

The man was kneeled in front of Peter, his gaze was still dark and controlling and now the Peter knew what to look for, he could see the lonely drops of blood under his nails. 

Peter turned to face him and taking his rough hand in his, the boy cleaned Stark earnestly and was rewarded with a slow smile. 

No. Peter wasn’t used to be awaken at odd hours, hours where mr. Stark would have been working. And that meant, screaming, threatening, hurting and punishing other people, people who deserved it. 

The hours where the man was drained to exhaustion and one of his ways to coping with the murder thoughts was to touch him, to bath him and clean him as if that way the man stripped down his own sins. 

And Peter would gladly drink them all only to see the man smile again. 

Tony wrapped him in a fluffy towel and carried him to his room. Out were expose three different pajamas Peter could choose from before going back to sleep. Tony was going to dressed him careful and thoughtfully, spread him in his sheets and let him take as much space as the boy wanted, which usually meantstaying nested near his body even when the bed was big enough to fit four to five people. 

Peter let the Mafia Lord rest between his legs and hugged him to his chest, he would never say it aloud but he worried for the older man. An older man carrying the weight of the world in his shoulders ready to do the impossible for his family and the people he cared about. Peter was lucky to be one of those now. 

Tony could drown in his need for revenge, pride and lust for blood anytime, but one look at Peter and everything else would ease into background. Tony wanted only to see Peter. 

Tony wanted to give him the world. 

And of that meant tearing the world down. So be it. 

* * *

‘ _Jasmine_ ’ was still the same but also different. Soon the place had become a safe space now that they knew they could trust each other. 

Stephen was always glad to see Peter once again even by the hand of Stark, but soon any dark thoughts were forgotten with one of Peter’s smiles. 

Bucky saved him a place next to the bar, Peter no longer was a simple ornament, a pretty bird to fawn over. Now, he mixed and served next to mr. Barnes with the only unusual outcome of having pats on his head by the people who knew him. 

Natasha was delighted to see him again. Gushing how much ‘ _Jasmine_ ’ wasn’t the same without his lithe flower. The woman was there for business, someone had required her services and she had to touch point. Get to know her client even before considering the offer. 

It was a really good fucking offer. 

Peter giggled attracting some attention. Some expected, some unwanted; he had grown up accustomed to the demeaning stare and bland comments about his mere existence. How much he was nothing but dirt underneath their shoes not even worth cleaning. 

He never really paid attention. Peter knew he was in safe hands, Dr. Strange —as he liked to refer himself— never left him out of his sight, Bucky was near him all times and misses Romanov tucked him under her wing before he was even conscious. 

He was in safe hands. 

Now, to those hands, he could add some more. A pair of hands that he could love, caress and admire. 

Tony’s hands were made of iron. With a clenching fist and a deadly grasp, everybody feared for his life pending within those hands. Anyone but Peter. 

Bucky let him know it was time for him to serve drinks at the upper state. The hidden floor used only in special occasion.

His shiny shoes squeaked against the floor forgotten to the soft lullaby of music, a tray rested on his hand, careful walk and timid steps leaded him behind a heavy curtain and wood double doors. 

Knocking smoothly he waited for instructions. 

Mr. Rogers opened the door for him, nodding in silence Peter greeted the man and gazed over the room to know their occupants. Dr. Strange was sitting far from the window, legs crossed in a comfortable sofa, mr. Rogers kept his place close to the door. There was a man sitting on the other sofa next to Strange, a man he didn’t know. 

The unknown face was serious. Short and well-kept hair, the beard wasn’t long but thick, Peter question if it would feel as smooth as Mr. Stark thrim one underneath his hands however any second thought was soon forgotten as Mr. Stark himself caught his attention. 

“Please, come in.” Peter held his need to smile feeling pleased and after a second or so, left the tray in the table by the man. 

“I gotta say, this was not what i expected.” Said the man as Peter served four cups of tea in pearl white cups decorated with hand painteddrawing of living flowers. Peter kneeled fully in the soft rug and for moments his movement was in doubt, had he understood wrongly? Those were not his orders? 

Strange came forward and patted his head to ease his worries. 

“I know it’s unconventional although I personally taught Peter the art of Japanese tea parties and is as important as the discussion we’re having.” Peter nodded along the doctor’s words and continued to serve each cup with care and love. 

Peter felt the weight of a stare, so curious as always, he looked up thinking he was going to find Mr. Stark eyes but instead he took in a pair of interested piercing blue eyes. 

“How silly of me—“ Mr. Stark roamed shortly as Peter walked to give Steve his cup. The smiled grateful, they had been drinking most part of the evening and his stomach was glad of a changed. “Please, let me introduce the new member of the Stark Industries.” Tony circles his desk and stayed on top of it with a loose grin between his lips. “Quentin, meet Peter.” The boy stopped his actions to stand and come closer to the man whose eyes sparkled with an upsetting glamour. 

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Quentin smiled with a short nod and repressed a twitching eyebrow from going up in interest. So this was the mysterious boy he had heard before. 

A well-hidden boy who had stolen Stark’s heart. Some say the man let the boy rule on top of his shoulders. 

Well, at least the boy was easy on the eye so he could sympathize with the older one. 

“Peter, this is mister Quentin Beck.” Peter grinned looking pleased like a cat who almost got the cream and went back to attending the men around him. Now going step by step on what he was doing and why. Strange looked proud. 

“Usually the head of the family would be the last person to be serve.” Stealing a amuse smirk to Mr. Stark, Peter went up to the man and left his cup untouched on the desk. “But today we are here to celebrate you Mr. Beck.” Quentin wasn’t going to lie, he felt a tingle of arousing glee at being addressed in such ways by the little beauty. 

The sound of pouring tea was heard with such clarity that Quentin should have been more worry about it rather than staring at Peter as the boy opened the kettle’s lid to extract fresh petals of flowers and served them gingerly. 

Steve look at his empty cup, did he just—? 

“Tonight we honor you with a special infusion to make you feel comfortable.” Peter placed the cup in the man’s hands and waited for him to drink bits. The soft and sweet floral scent had a taste of honey. “We have to treat you like you are...” Quentin finished his drink in short soundless sips. “The man who’s trying to steal from the Stark Family.” 

Beck’s eyes went wide and his hands trembled slightly, short after his heart started beating fast and his breath was unable to even out. One of his bands rose to his neck useless. The cup rolled down the carpet. 

Peter caught Tony’s eyes almost guilty. 

“I’m sorry.” Cleaning the rug was going to be a pain. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Steve will take care of it.” Speaking of Steve—

The poor man was petrified in his place, his eyes never leaving the lifeless corpse of Beck laying in the sofa, from outside nobody would have thought the man was dead, only comfortably sleeping if you didn’t notice the lack of movement in his chest. Steve has also finished his drink and sure was waiting his turn. 

Peter moved closer to Steve and took both of his hands into his own. 

“You’re okey, Cap. Nothing is going to happened to you.” The man released a heavy breath he didn’t know was keeping in and his legs failed him for seconds, leaving him kneeling in front of the boy with his forehead against the soft clothed tummy. “I would never hurt you, Cap.” Steve laughed in guffaw and finally relaxed his shoulders. 

“Please, don’t ever do that again, Boss.” He was talking to Tony but gazed up to find Peter. “It’s not good for my health.” Peter giggled in content and caressed the man’s hair as an apology. 

Mr. Stark moved from his seat and thought what to do now. 

They had work ahead. 

By the time  _Jasmine_ was close and the body was being moved Peter came close asking for time to see the man better and touched his beard. With a displeased disappointment he realized it was not even close to the feeling he had when closer to Mr. Stark. 

Tony lifted a brow questioning and Peter shrugged. 

“It doesn’t feel the same.” 

“To what?” Peter hugged himself to Tony’s waist and hide a shy smile. 

“To you.” 

Peter watched as the body disappeared in Bucky’s hands. 

“They should know better than to touch what’s mine.” He breathed easily as all trail of Quentin Beck began to erase there in the middle of nowhere, hidden in open landscapes. 

Back at the manor Peter stood half naked, only a robe covering his body as Tony applied lotion to his legs. 

“And tell me master Peter. What’s yours?” The tint of amused sarcasm was not invisible to Peter and for moments he had the decency to look embarrassed, his cheeks lighting up in color. “The money? Or is it the gun? Are they yours baby?” Tony left the robe on the floor and started to slowly dress the boy in delicate silk shorts. 

Peter rose up to his tippy toes and hugged Tony by his shoulders. 

“The money is yours. You made it. You earned it. You bled it out.” Peter wanted nothing more than kiss the man in his arms. “Your guns are yours, your designes, your ideas.” Tony held the boy closer and kissed his neck. Peter standing on the bed while he stayed with his feet on the ground, the boy seem taller. “You wanted to know what’s mine...” 

Peter could have said so many different things. Jasmine, the club. The house Strange had given him, the car Natasha gifted him for his birthday, so many other material things he had over the years. Yes, Peter had other things but worth killing for was only one. 

“You. You are mine. And I won’t let anyone take you from my side.” Good answer. 

If Peter was selfish for wanting to hurt anything or anyone who could take Tony away. 

He was a madman willing to destroy the world only to see him happy. 

“Don’t touch what’s mine.” Said the clever boy once pointing a pristine gun to a man’s forehead once and pulled the trigger the second Tony was to his side. 


End file.
